A difference in language is nothing to me
by Tsukikami Moyizawa
Summary: Riff's baby sister Blaire is a stereotypical Jet, born and raised on the hot streets by her big brother. When she falls head over sneakers in love with a stereotypical Shark, complications ensue. Set before Maria ever arrives in America. OCxChino. The WSS storyline is introduced in later chapters.
1. The Stranger and the Streetwalker

I loved having a big brother. My big brother was my whole world, since I had no idea what had happened to our parents, and our buggin' uncle was a sleazebag. My brother was the one who gave me the nickname "Bae," since when I was born he couldn't pronounce the second 'b' in "babe." My brother was the one who really took care of me after my parents left, and he was the one that brought me up to be a tough girl. It was my brother who got us out of the abusive home of our uncle and moved both of us into his best friend's house. He kept me alive. He taught me how to survive. I loved Riff with all my heart. Naturally, when he and the friend we'd been living with started the Jets, I was the first in line to join. At the time I was 17 years old. I was one of the four oldest-Riff and Tony were the oldest, and me an' Action came next. All the rest—Diesel, A-rab, Gee-tar, Snowboy, Baby John—they were little kids who didn't come till later. I was one of the guys, but there was still the knowledge that I was a girl that didn't necessarily make them treat me any differently, but made all of them a lot more defensive and protective of me than if I had been a boy like them. But that was okay with me, 'cause I knew they'd never let me get hurt in a rumble, but they'd still let me rumble. They'd never let me get hit by a spick but they'd let me hit spicks.

Most of the boys, if you talked to them, wouldn't be able to give you a real good reason for hating the PRs. Even Riff's reason is just an extension of my own. A group of trashy gold-teeth jumped me when I was fifteen. They didn't do anything involving the removin' of garments, to put it nicely, but they roughed me up real bad before leavin' me in a back alley for Riff to find later. That's why he taught me to fight in the first place, so if I ever got jumped again, I wouldn't let them take me down so easy. So when Bernardo and his dipsticks moved over and started up the Sharks, we weren't especially happy. Riff and me jumped 'em.

That's what started the whole thing. Me and Riff doin' something stupid out of nothing but blind hate. Three people died because of it.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. This particular story starts three or four months after the Sharks started giving us trouble. We hadn't had an all-out rumble in a while, and the boys were getting bored. We all pounced on any chance to make them give us trouble. One day, at our urging, they finally snapped.

At this point, the only one of their faces I really knew was Bernardo, their leader. There were two others who were with him most of the time, but I was just pretty focused on him. I saw him walking out of a local bakery with his wife, Anita. I didn't see either of the other two. I pulled my hood up over my head to hide my starkly recognizable red hair, and strutted over to them. I put a hand on Anita's shoulder, looking down when she and Bernardo turned to look at me. "¿Puedes dar un poco dinero, por favor?" I mumbled in the best Spanish I knew. Anita smiled and took my hands as Bernardo fished around in his pockets for change, saying, "Si, un momento por favor." For a second I felt kind of bad for what we do to them, but it passed rather quickly when Anita caught the ring on my hand that I should have known would give me away. It was Riff's class ring from his high school, and she recognized it immediately. Bernardo growled and took a swing at me, but I ducked, grabbing Anita's shawl and bolting. He chased me into a back alley, where he stopped in his tracks when the entirety of the Jets descended upon him and chased him right back out. Before long the rest of the Sharks had joined him, and it turned into an all-out brawl in the middle of the street. Riff faced off with Bernardo, and everybody else was fair game. Somehow I came face to face with one of Bernardo's two accomplices. I was caught off guard for a moment when my feminine side kicked in and told me that damn, he looked good. I ain't sure but I think I saw the same thing in his eyes. Not that it really mattered, 'cause my Jet side took over again and swung at him, ready to kick his spick ass. Unlike most of his kind, he actually swung back at a girl. I ducked and we circled each other, prepared to pounce at the slightest provocation. I was first to jump.

While most of the one-on-one fights around us were generic fist fights, ours somehow turned into a fierce wrestling match. He had me pinned to the hot pavement, breathing heavily and sweating like crazy. He wasn't in much better condition, which I was proud to see. He looked down at me and smirked as I struggled, saying, "Me gustaría mucho besarte ahora," his eyes full of something I couldn't quite place. I kneed him in the stomach and he relinquished his hold on me, allowing me to flip us over and end up on top of him. "Me hablo español, dumbass," I sneered and pulled my arm back. It came down quickly as I punched him in the face, rattling his brains around. Sitting on him still, I looked around and realized the Sharks were retreating, and Krupke's whistle was piercing the air. Riff called for me to get out of there, and I spent one more moment looking at the guy's bruised and bloodied face. Surprisingly even to me, I quickly bent down and kissed him softly before getting up and bolting.


	2. Windows and Fire Escapes

"Chino, what is wrong with you? You've had that same blank look on your face all week!" Bernardo hit me on the side of the head. "Wake up, Chino!"

I sighed deeply and rested my head against the window. "No me lo ayuda. Ella es muy bonita," I whined. Nardo got a strange smile on his face and burst out laughing. "Are you in love, mi amigo?"  
I rolled my eyes. "I don't know about that, but sure, maybe."

Nardo slung an arm around my shoulders. "Tiene cuidado, hombre. Once you fall in love, you're stuck, and there's no getting out of it. Especially if the girl falls in love with you, oh, then you're doomed. Either something will happen and then you'll have to marry her, or you'll marry her and then something will have to happen, ¿si?"

I grinned when Anita yelled "¡Oye, Bernardo!" angrily from the next room, and Nardo gave me a brotherly shove before making his exit, speaking in rapid Spanish to his wife, who returned with just as heated an argument.

I came to this country with my good friend Bernardo and his wife almost six months ago. Back home, I was courting his little sister, Maria. She did not come with us to America, which was good because the two of us had, for the most part, lost interest in each other, but neither of us had the heart to tell Nardo. He was so happy and excited for us. I kind of got tired of fighting the Jets all the time here, and that part of me wanted to go home. But then I remember how horrible it was there—with the storms, overpopulation, wars, and poverty. It was horrible. Here, even though we fought all the time still, no one ever really got hurt. I had my own bed here, for the time being. That is, until I was married. But I hadn't found anybody yet.

At this point my mind strayed once again to the girl I had fought last week. I didn't know who she was and what was so tough about her that they let her fight in the gang, but she was a sight to behold. That fiery hair that fell loose around her face as we wrestled. Her face had turned red, only a little lighter than her hair. Her eyes were this sharp green that seemed to make me crazy. She was a scrawny girl, but she had beat me, so she was unbelievably strong. But who was she?

Bernardo waltzed back into the room and sat down next to me again. "Maria's a lucky girl," he said. I nodded distractedly, then asked, "Hey Nardo, did you see that girl fighting with the Americans?" He sighed and shook his head. "Si. They call that girl Blaire, and she's Riff's little sister. I'd stay away from her if I were you. She's too tough for her own good. Any suitor of hers would be taken out before the end of the wedding night."

I chuckled halfheartedly at that, thinking even harder about that girl, Blaire. Riff's sister? That busted that up. If Bernardo or Riff, or anyone, for that matter, found out that I had the hots for her, some serious crap would go down. Suddenly, I was struck with an idea. I excused myself abruptly and headed down the street through dark back alleys into Jet territory.

I stopped when I saw a light on in one of the upper rooms of an apartment building. Through the blinds I could see the form of a young woman, sweeping her hair back into a braid. Through a crack in the blinds I saw, for an instant, that that hair was bright red. Found her. I climbed up the fire escape of the building next to hers until I was level with her window. I whistled like the Americans did to get each other's attention. I saw her quickly finish off her braid and open the window. She leaned out and whistled back, looking around and down for whoever had summoned her. Not seeing anyone, she turned around and looked back into the room, checking if anyone inside had. When she swiveled around again, she spotted him. Her green eyes became cloudy and she looked like she was about to call for Riff or Tony. I put my finger up to my lips, shushing her quickly and smiling as reassuringly as I could. Her eyes widened and she went to close her window. "No!" I said, yelling as quietly as I could, and she paused to glare at me. "No," I whispered. She sighed and climbed out onto her fire escape, closing the window behind her. "What are you doing here?" she hissed. "I needed to see you again," I replied.

She rolled her eyes. "I gave you a black eye and a concussion, and your dumb ass wants to see me again?"

I grinned. "You also gave me a kiss."

She pursed her lips. "Don't expect another one, spick."

My stomach clenched at the sound of that ugly word coming from those pretty lips. "Please, hear me out. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for a week. That might just be the concussion talking, but you can't imagine how captive you've got me. I've never seen any girl more beautiful than you, not here, or back home."

Her eyes softened considerably. She looked behind her to again make sure no one was coming, and then climbed up to stand precariously on the rim of the landing. "What are you doing?" I whispered, concerned. Her eyebrows furrowed. "Just shut up and make sure you catch me."

With that, she jumped, her loose shirt and baggy shorts fluttering around her slim form as she flew over to my side. I held my arms out, ready to catch her, but she hadn't quite jumped far enough. Just as her fingers brushed mine, she fell short. She couldn't manage to hold in the scream that escaped before I threw myself down and grabbed her arm, hauling her back up to me. She trembled ever so slightly , and I could feel it clearly when she sat in my arms. From across the narrow alley, I heard feet pounding up stairs and a man's voice yelling, "Blaire!"

I opened the window right behind us and pulled her in after me, ignoring her protestation. We ducked beneath the windowsill as Riff leaned out of her window, looking all around the alley, calling out for her. Silently, I begged her to remain quiet. She looked up at me, and her eyes told me she was willing to go along with me. Riff ran back into the apartment, shouting, "Tony! Blaire's gone! We gotta get the boys and find her!"

When he was gone, Blaire put her face in her hands, saying "I can picture this going south real fast."

I let go of her and helped her back onto the fire escape. "Please just give me one night," I begged. She shook her head. "I have to get back and calm my brother down. Anyway, I don't even know your name. And it doesn't matter how much I may or may not like you; you're a Shark. I'm a Jet. You should leave."

My face fell as she climbed down from the fire escape and started to run down the street after Riff and Tony. I shouted out to her, "Chino!"

She stopped and looked up at me. She graced me with a half-smile of acknowledgement before continuing on her way.

That girl Blaire was a mystery to me. She was then, and she still is to me now. I don't think I could put into words just how I felt about her, nor could I put into words just how much it hurt to see her walk away from me.


	3. Confusion and Memories

"DAMN IT!" I screamed as I punched the brick side of a building. I soon realized that it was a mistake, because my knuckles started to bleed profusely. I sunk to the ground, cradling my injured hand, rocking back and forth, cursing vehemently. When the pain went down a bit, I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes. This wasn't good at all. I was infatuated with this Puerto Rican filth. It was three o'clock in the morning, four hours after he had shown up at my window. I couldn't find Riff or Tony, so I gave up and let them go. I had been sitting in this alley thinking since. Why couldn't I get his face out of my head? He looked so hurt when I ran away from him. I reminded myself that it could very well be fake. He may just be pretending so he can get into my heart or my pants, either way landing him and his gang with dirt on the Jets. But then, it could be real. What if he saw me and felt for me the same thing I felt for him? What if he was genuine?

I sighed and put my head in my hands. "Dear God," I prayed. "Please let me figure this out. Let this work out smoothly, so that no one gets hurt, physically or emotionally. Please don't let Riff find out. Please don't let Riff find out. Amen."

I jumped when I heard a soft voice. "Por favor. Amen." I looked up, and there he was, the moonlight shining on his dark skin, he himself looking more like some deity you'd see in a dream than a filthy spick. I just closed my eyes. "What are you doing here?" I asked. He squatted down next to me and moved as if to put his arms around me, but stopped himself. "I followed you. I was worried about you. You looked so…confused."

I pushed him away roughly. "And you think coming after me is going to lessen that confusion at all?"

He sat back on his heels and looked at me, keeping his distance. I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes and let out a huge exhale. "I want you," I said slowly, "to tell me exactly how you feel about me. No lies."

He answered within seconds. "You are the most beautiful and valuable girl in the universe. I don't know if it's love, but it sure as hell is strong. It's like I said. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. You're constantly on my mind, a lot of the time you're the only thing on my mind. I'd stop the fighting for you if you asked me to if I didn't know how much you enjoy it. I'd make nice with your brother and his Jets because of you. And," he paused, "If you willed it, I would go back to Puerto Rico."

I looked up at him, making my face as stoic as possible. But inside I was jumping and screaming for joy. Nobody can fake being that genuine. He scooted closer to me. "And you? How do you feel?"

Keeping a straight face, I moved over so that I was very close to his face. I whispered, looking into his dark and fathomless eyes, "I would follow you back there."

He kissed me. He leaned through the last, smallest of distances between us and kissed me. I pulled back slightly involuntarily, and he stopped, concern in his eyes. My eyebrows furrowed, and my breathing picked up. I scrambled backwards, staring at him. He didn't say anything, just looked at me as I scaled the wall and ran across rooftops back to Tony's apartment. But I'm not likely to forget that look in his eyes, like his whole world had just walked away from him.

I sat in a chair in the living room, holding a picture of my mom holding me, and my dad holding Riff. It was the only picture we had of us as a family, before both of our parents were killed because of a group of stupid boys and their stupid gang warfare. I had been almost alone my whole life. There are certain things that Riff just couldn't help me with. And now, I was in love with the very person that Riff had always taught me to hate. Who was I supposed to go to for something like this? I realized that if I did this, I did this alone. Or did I? Maybe there was one person I could go to. I resolved to go over and talk to her tomorrow afternoon.

I put the picture down quickly when Riff stormed into the apartment, followed by Tony. He was shouting, "If those bastards did anything to her, I swear to God I"ll—" I walked into the entryway and crossed my arms. "Where have you been? I've been up all night worrying about you!"

Riff rushed over to me and grabbed my shoulders. "What happened? Where did you go? Did the damn spicks do anything to you?"

I shook my head. "I saw one outside my window and went to chase him, but he got away. So I came back. I'm fine."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Tell me when you leave next time, ok? I don't want you getting hurt."

I nodded and started to walk back to my bedroom, but paused. I ran back to him and gave him a tight hug. "I love you, Riff," I muttered into his leather jacket. He kissed my forehead. "Love you too, Blaire."


End file.
